


Sunflower

by keraunoscopia



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Concubine, I lied now its as angsty as the tags make it seem, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Not as angsty as the tags make it seem, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pedophilia, Secret Relationship, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-08 10:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12862731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keraunoscopia/pseuds/keraunoscopia
Summary: Sonny has been the king's concubine since he was only twelve years old, but he's also caught the eye of the king's advisor.





	1. Sunrise

Dominick had been living in the palace for almost as long as he could remember. The son of peasant farmer, he had been selected by the king when he was only twelve as the procession had moved through the town outside the palace walls. He was beautiful, they had said, one of the rare few born with blond hair, blue eyes and long lashes. Even at twelve, he was striking.

Dominick hadn’t understood what it meant, other than that he’d had to leave his mother and father and sisters behind, to live in the palace, and he had expected his parents to cry when the king’s guards pulled him away, but they were celebrating. “Such an honor,” his mother had smiled at him.

He hadn’t left the palace walls since, hadn’t seen his mother and father and sisters in fifteen years. And it hadn’t taken him long to find out exactly what his role at the palace would be. When he first arrived he was moved into a room with twelve other blue eyed, blond haired young men, of varying ages. They’d been kind to him, mostly, explained exactly what it meant to be selected by the king, what he’d have to do when he got a little older.

But they were treated well, always fed the finest foods, given the finest clothes, allowed to drink the finest wines and spirits. And when the king wasn’t requesting their presence, they were pretty free to move around the palace.

Dominick was particularly fond of the gardens. He had learned the name of every native flower growing up on his parent’s farm, but the palace gardens were sprawling, endlessly filled with flowers collected from the furthest reaches of the globe. He had no idea the names of most of them, but they were beautiful, and outside when he closed his eyes he could pretend he was home. And when he opened them, he could catch glimpses of the beautiful, intriguing dark haired man who often sat under one of the willow trees.

Dominick was nineteen when he first laid eyes on the King’s Advisor, Rafael. He was shrewd and calculating, infamously decisive, infamously brutal. At least, that’s what Dominick had heard about him, from the palace staff, and the other men, concubines, he’d come to learn what their title was.

But in the soft light of the palace gardens, surrounded by lilies and alstromeria, oleander and hyacinth, he didn’t seem particularly heartless. Still, Dominick kept a comfortable distance between them, never letting his curious gaze linger for too long.

By the time he was twenty-two, the king had long since moved on from any interest in Dominick. There had been more than a few young blond haired blue eyed boys that had been added to their chambers, fresh and young. And Dominick longed to go home, even if the people there would be strangers after all this time. But none of them were allowed to leave, the king never seemed to let go of the things he considered his, and even if he wasn’t interested in taking Dominick to bed anymore, he belonged to him. So, Dominick spent a lot more time in the gardens, had befriended the gardeners years ago, helped to weed and prune.

It was a particularly hot day, and Dominick was in the middle of a huge swath of sunflowers, cutting them down for the palace entry way. He had long since shed his shirt, but he was still slick with sweat, brow dripping. He gathered a pile of sunflowers in his arms and left the patch, intent on heading back into the palace. Too focused on trying to keep the long stems from slipping out of his grasp, he didn’t notice when he turned down a dirt path and collided with someone.

But not just someone, Dominick gasped a quick apology, “I’m so, so sorry,” his eyes were wide with fear. Rafael.

The man just bristled, taking a step back and smoothing out his clothes. “You should watch where you’re going.”

Dominick was already hot from the sun, but the biting remark heated his cheeks even more. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t see over the sunflowers,” he added sheepishly before scurrying off into the cool safe haven of the palace.

Dominick saw Rafael in the gardens only a few days later. “Sunflower,” Rafael had called out to him with an amused smirk, catching Dominick’s gaze as he attempted to hide behind the hydrangeas. Dominick stood up, blush rising on his cheeks.

“I’m sorry for the other day,” he added, taking a few steps closer to the stone bench Rafael was sitting on, leather bound book in hand. “What are you reading?”

Rafael cocked his head to the side, the expression on his face unreadable. “The Odyssey,” he replied, lifting the book so the gold embossed binding hit the sunlight. “You’re not a gardener,” it wasn’t a question, “and yet I always see you out here working.”

Dominick shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hands twisting awkwardly together. “The king lost interest in me years ago, had to find some sort of something to pass the time.”

“I can’t imagine why.” The words seemed to leave Rafael’s mouth before he was even aware he had said them, and Dominick flushed all the same.

“You’re the king’s right hand, aren’t you?” Dominick raised an eyebrow, “surely you know by know what sort of interests he has for his concubines.” Young. Fresh. Dominick was arguably still both of those things, but they both knew that the king’s preferences were much younger, and Dominick seemed to be going prematurely grey, silver streaks at his temples.

Rafael nodded, “a proclivity we don’t exactly share,” and Dominick wasn’t sure what to make of the comment, but Rafael opened up the book again, and turned his attention back to reading, so he figured that was the end of that, and slipped back into the flowers.

But their meetings in the gardens didn’t end there, and Dominick’s face flushed each time he heard that familiar voice call out “Sunflower.” He was surprised, for how notorious the king’s advisor was, he was incredibly easy to talk to, and they spent long hours under the willow trees, in the shade of the palace walls and the soft pink hue of the rose bushes talking, about politics, which Dominick knew little of, about books they had read, about flowers, about Rafael’s travels to distant lands that Dominick could only ever dream of.

Dominick knew it was taboo, that he would forever be a concubine of the king, that he’d never be able to leave the palace walls, would never be able to share his life with someone, but he knew he was falling in love with Rafael. Slowly, surely, inescapably.

“Does the King know how much time you’re spending with his advisor?” one of the older concubines had asked one day in their chambers as Dominick laid in his bed with a book that Rafael had given him to read. Dominick had just flushed, hiding behind the pages. “I’ll take that as a no. Be careful, you know how jealous he gets…”

And Dominick knew he was right, knew that nothing could happen between him and Rafael, that as much as it seemed like Rafael felt the same way, he would never cross that line. Rafael was the king’s right hand, the sole advisor allowed in every meeting, had the king’s ear. Anything between them would be betrayal. Treason.

He knew that, he did, but it all slipped out of his head as they stood under the willow tree, only illuminated by the silver glow of the moon. And Rafael reached up a gentle hand, thumb brushing softly across Dominick’s cheek. “Sonny,” he had spoken softly, the nickname he had given him. They couldn’t be together, the rational part of his brain was screaming at him, but he just leaned into the soft kiss.


	2. Sundown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this wasn't supposed to be a multi chapter fic but my brain decided that I should spend time outlining this instead of paying attention in my legal ethics class... so. I'm estimating 5 chapters total.

Fifteen years inside the palace walls had left Dominick isolated, cut off from the happenings of the kingdom, the demands of ordinary life. He had never struggled for anything, had never needed to worry where his next meal was coming from, had never needed to concern himself with anything other than those few short years when he had been the king’s choice bed companion.

As much as every earthly need had been taken care of from his first day in the palace at twelve, his life had always lacked a certain amount of excitement, of passion, of thrill. And really, he hadn’t known what he was missing. He coasted through each day, sun up to sun down, busying himself in the gardens, working his way through the thousands of volumes in the library. He had been content. 

Until Rafael, of course. 

Until he had bumped into the advisor with an arm full of flowers. 

It was nearly a year ago when Rafael had summoned him to the gardens in the middle of the night, under the willow tree. Their willow tree. Where Rafael had first called out that nickname that made Dominick’s stomach twist, and his face flush. Dominick hadn’t known what to expect as he walked quietly down the stone steps to the gardens, Rafael’s summon had lacked any sort of explanation. 

Rafael had been sitting on that same bench, but the sun drenched gold hue that Dominick had committed to memory was replaced by the silver incandescence of the moon filtering through the willow’s long tendrils. Still just as beautiful. Dominick swallowed the lump in his throat, surely it had to be the conversation he’d been dreading, the “we can’t continue on like this” conversation, the “you’re a concubine, I’m the king’s advisor, even so much of a friendship was inappropriate.”

Dominick steeled himself. Love had never been in the cards for him, not since he had caught the discerning eye of the king all those years ago. He had been foolish to entertain any thoughts to the contrary. “You summoned me,” his voice was soft, certain they were alone in the gardens, but still not wanting to interrupt the soft chirp of crickets, the rustle of leaves brushing against each other. 

Rafael rose from the stone bench, slow and deliberate. Their friendship, if you could call it that, had been blooming slowly over the past few years, so Dominick recognized the expression on his face, that sort of uncertain nerve that he’d only seen when Rafael talked about the threat of war. The advisor nodded slowly, taking a few steps towards him. A safe distance still, Dominick thought, not close enough to touch, not close enough to let himself slip. 

“I did. I just got word that there’s uprisings in the eastern territory. The king has asked me to accompany General Cragen and the troops, we leave in the morning,” Rafael explained slowly, taking a singular step closer, enough for Dominick to make out the dark circles under his eyes.   
“Eastern territories, that’s six days away, isn’t it?” Dominick wasn’t sure why he was there. They were friends, if that, but surely that didn’t demand an explanation of the king’s political strategy five hours before the sun would first crest the horizon. 

Rafael nodded, “the most dangerous path in the kingdom, the Eastern territories have never been particularly well assimilated into the kingdom,” a dark look crossed his face, brows furrowing as he turned his gaze from Dominick. “I didn’t want to leave without saying my peace.” 

Dominick frowned, taking a step closer, dangerously close… all he would have to do was reach out, and he could touch the soft bronze skin of the advisor… He bit his lip. “Your peace?” 

Rafael looked up, eyes catching Dominick’s, they’d always been green, an enthralling viridian shade that Dominick had never seen before, but in the low light, beneath they were so dark they were almost black. “I’m not ignorant to your position here,” Dominick had never heard Rafael’s voice sound so uncertain. “I know you belong to the king, I know that…” His voice hitched, “that anything between us would be treason, punishable by death. But I, I couldn’t leave without telling you that I love you.” 

Dominick felt the air rush out of his lungs, knees buckling under the weight of implication. “You do?” His eyes searched Rafael’s face desperately, for any indication of a punchline, but he found nothing but earnest sincerity.

“I do,” Rafael nodded, closing what remained of a distance between them, his hand raised, cupping Dominick’s cheek gently. 

When their lips met, Dominick could feel the heavy weight of everything he had been so desperately missing settle in his stomach. It was soft, and sweet. Rafael smelled like strawberries, but tasted like sadness. Bittersweet, because he was leaving in the morning, because it could never be more than it was, stolen moments in the garden. 

And for a year, that’s what it was. The soft kisses and precarious embraces lingered for a while, until Rafael had reluctantly explained that he needed to prepare his bags, and he left in the morning. Dominick had no idea what to think, had no idea what to expect when Rafael returned- if he returned, but the memories, he decided, would be enough. He spent three long weeks under the willow tree, basking in the reminiscence, falling asleep in the cool grass. 

And then Rafael returned, with the General, and most of the troops that had left with him. Dominick caught glimpses of him in the hall, lingered for a little too long outside of the throne room, eyes trained on that chestnut brown hair at the king’s right hand. It was three days after his return when Dominick found himself being pushed into an empty chamber, and he stumbled, caught off guard. It took him a moment to realize who it was standing in front of him, leaning into him, pressing his back into the stark stone wall. Rafael. 

He melted into the searing kiss, hands fisting frantically in the fabric of Rafael’s shirt pulling him so impossibly close. When Rafael finally pulled away, Dominick couldn’t think of anything more beautiful, the red flush on his cheeks, hair disheveled, bruised lips, his chest rising and falling quickly, just a little out of breath. “I missed you,” the words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them, and Rafael’s expression softened. 

Rafael’s mouth opened to respond, but his attention was caught by the sound of heels against the stone floors, echoing in the hallway, and as quickly as Rafael had appeared, he retreated, slipping away with a soft, “later, Sunflower.” 

Dominick didn’t expect it to continue, didn’t expect those few stolen moments to be anything other than the melancholy resignation that there could be nothing more, but they continued to meet like they had before, talked for hours about stories, about what existed outside the walls of the palace. Dominick told Rafael about his sisters, the three of them, about his mother and father who had been so pleased to see him go. 

And then Rafael had summoned him, to his chambers late one night, under the dark cover of a new moon. And Dominick, for all his time as the king’s concubine, could have never imagined how much sex could feel like love, like reverence, like fealty, like worship, but he had come completely undone under Rafael’s devoted touch. 

And Dominick, he knew that it was the limit, that as much as he loved Rafael, there was no further they could push against the king. He was sprawled out in the soft luxury of Rafael’s bed, the covers bunched at his ankles, and the head of the king’s advisor resting against his bare chest. He let his hand brush lightly through Rafael’s damp curls, could feel hot, steady breath against his skin. This was enough, he thought to himself. Even if it could be nothing more, even if they could never have the happily ever after reserved for those outside of the palace walls and his storybooks. Rafael, asleep on his chest, for those few hours before morning break, that was enough. 

The door to Rafael’s chambers swung open with such force that the heavy wood split at its seam. The sound startled Rafael out of slumber, and they sat up, no chance for confusion as the king’s guard stepped into his chambers. Dominick turned to Rafael, panic spreading across his face. 

Rafael opened his mouth to protest, but the head guard cut him off, unrolling a scroll as the others surrounded the bed, pulling them both to their feet. “Rafael Barba, Advisor to His Royal Highness, Dominick Carisi, you have been charged with Treason, the King has sentenced you to death.”


	3. Sunstruck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I told myself I was going to study today and not write any fanfic, but clearly I lied to myself so here's this. Hope y'all enjoy. Let me know what you think!

The cold dark cells of the palace had always been off limits to the concubines, off limits to all of the palace staff, anyone but the guards. Dominick had never even considered them before, the palace itself had always been his prison, the walls around the palace grounds an insurmountable obstacle.

His hands were cut loose as the guard pushed him roughly into the cell, closing the door made of wrought iron bars with a resounding echo in the damp caverns of the hall. He stumbled, falling to the ground with a loud groan. 

“Sonny,” he heard the pained cry as Rafael was pushed into another cell. Dominick kept his mouth shut, shifting to lean against the rough stone wall, his head falling back. He had no idea how they had ended up there, the bowels of the palace complex, threat of execution hanging over his head. 

Of course he had known, knew that there were risks. But he had been swept up in the magic, those gorgeous, fleeting moments that seemed more like a dream than anything he had ever experienced. Dominick turned his head, peering through the bars across the hall. Even disheveled, dirty and bruised, loose curls falling in his face, sitting on the floor of a prison cell, Rafael was the most incredible sight. Their eyes met. Blue and green.

And that was the the most painful part. That Rafael was there too, that Rafael was being sentenced to death. Dominick broke his gaze away, tears welling in his eyes. Rafael had a life, had a family, a future. Rafael had never been bound by the palace walls. Dominick had always known that he had no future. His future had ended at twelve, the little cottage next to a creek, surrounded by a field of sunflowers, a partner, a family, any hope of that had been extinguished when he had been pulled from a crowd by the king’s guards. 

His death, he could reconcile. But Rafael’s… Dominick couldn’t hold back his tears, and his anguished sobs resonated in the catacombs. 

“Sunflower,” the soft call pulled Dominick out of his thoughts, and he looked over again, green eyes, steady, piercing. It calmed him more than he could have imagined, Rafael’s voice like a warm caress. “Please don’t cry.” Rafael leaned against the bars, like he was trying to close as much distance as he could between them. 

“I’m so sorry, Rafael,” Dominick slid closer to the bars, letting his forehead rest against the cool metal. “This is all my fault.” 

“No,” Rafael’s voice was harsh, startling the younger man, “its not. Nothing about this is your fault. You didn’t choose to be here; you didn’t choose to belong to the king. And I-” he wavered, “I knew the risks, I pushed you. And I swear, Sunflower, I will get you out of here alive.” 

Dominick’s breath caught in his throat, and he opened his mouth to respond, but his words were cut off by a boot, slipping through the bars, colliding with his ribs, and he let out a scream. “Shut up, you’re not allowed to speak to each other,” the guard growled, metal key jostling in the lock and he stepped into Dominick’s cell, yanking him to his feet. Dominick winced, pain still radiating in his side. 

“Where are you taking him?” Rafael shouted, scrambling to his feet, hands grasping at the bars. 

“Sir, you’ve been the king’s right hand for twenty years, but make no mistake, you have no status anymore.” The guard turned away from him, pushing Dominick down the hall and into another cell. 

And then he was left with nothing but his thoughts, not enough light in the cavern to illuminate the floor in front of him, too far from Rafael’s cell to even call out. He wanted to believe Rafael, wanted to believe that some how they could make it out of there, some how could make it out of the palace walls, find a life together on the other side. But Dominick had given up on hope a long time ago, knew that there was no sense in indulging those fantasies, because it only made the cold reality in front of him that much harder to bear. Rafael’s death would be on his hands. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, tried to count the moments between each guard change, each round through the hall, but without a single ray of sunlight, he had no way to know, and he let sleep consume him on the hard floor of the cell. 

He was sleeping when the cell door swung open, shrill creak pulling him from a dream of lovely yellow hues, sunflowers, and daisies, daffodils. “Get up,” the guard ordered, but didn’t give him a chance to comply, pulling Dominick to his feet, tying his hands together behind his back with rope. He winced, the pain in his side had dulled some, but he was certain that he had cracked ribs, a familiar feeling, after his experiences with the king. 

He wanted to open his mouth to ask, wanted to ask where they were going, but his throat was as dry as sandpaper, and it was a struggle to stay upright with the lightheadedness that always seemed to accompany withholding food. So instead, he simply complied, following the guard with careful steps as he was led out of the darkness of the cells and back to the main level of the palace. He recognized the doors immediately, the throne room, and he kept his head bowed, eyes trained on the floor as he was led before the king. 

Dominick’s knees bucked as he waited, waited for the king to speak, or a guard to announce his execution, or a sword to meet the back of his neck. He didn’t expect to hear steps beside him, and he lifted his head enough to catch a glimpse of the person beside him, only an arms length away if they weren’t still bound behind his back. Rafael. 

He looked worse than Dominick expected, sallow skin, dark circles under his eyes, hair falling over his brow. And yet he was still more beautiful than anyone he’d ever seen. Their eyes met, just for a moment, and Rafael gave him a small smile, just the hint of reassurance.  
  
The king stood, pulling Rafael’s gaze away, and Dominick followed suit. His stomach twisted. He had never been fond of the king, had dreaded every moment spent within his chambers, in his bed, but he hadn’t hated it, not until Rafael, not until he understood how different it could be. But hate, hate didn’t begin to broach the depth of the rage Dominick felt, knowing that the man in front of him was calling for the execution of Rafael. 

“Rafael Barba, Dominick Carisi,” The king’s dry rasp lingered in the rafters of the room. “For the crime of Treason, you have been sentenced to death. You will be executed by hanging in one week.” 

Dominick steeled his gaze, lifted his chin to the King, but beside him, Rafael’s head was bowed in absolution. His wrists strained against the rope, wanting nothing more than to reach out, to offer Rafael comfort, apology, sorrow, but the guard simply pulled him away again. 

Rafael sank to the floor of his cell, dimly illuminated by the soft glow of torch light at the stairs. He couldn’t deny that it had gotten further than he thought it would, had somehow hoped that twenty years with the king would have gained him enough favor to allow the intrusion. But Dominick, he was awe inspiring, and so Rafael could understand why the king didn’t want to allow him out of his clutches, and Rafael knew the king better than anyone, knew he was willing to destroy anything he couldn’t have. 

“Rafa,” the soft voice was sharp in the still caverns, and Rafael looked up, leaning towards the bars. 

“Liv? Did you speak with Rollins?” He looked up, but the guard’s back was still to the bars. He understood, that they needed to avoid the appearance of impropriety if he was to have any hope at all. 

“We’re working on it, Rafa,” her voice was soft, but reassuring. “You’ve been here for twenty years, you still have allies inside the palace, we’re not going to let you die here.” 

“And Dominick?” Rafael cut quickly, “he has to be part of this.” 

The guard nodded before continuing on with her rounds. 

It was impossible to tell night from day, hour from hour, and Rafael sat back in his cell, hand drumming against his knee to keep time as best he could. There was a slow drip against the stone, reverberating in his head, unsteady enough to run a shiver of anxiety down his spine with each staccato beat. If it weren’t for that drip, Rafael might have been convinced that time had come to a grinding halt. 

“Rafael, its time,” he looked up, caught off guard as Olivia appeared in front of his cell door, heavy metal key turning in the lock. 

“What day is it?” Rafael asked, they had never determined when this would happen, how much of a buffer they would have…

“The execution is scheduled for tomorrow,” Olivia ushered him out of the cell. “Amaro has horses waiting at the stable, Fin switched the guard out at the palace gates. Rollins will accompany you to the border of the town. From there you just have to avoid any troops or guards. Our friends outside the kingdom are expecting you.” 

“And Dominick?” Rafael turned to her, frozen in place, eyes desperately searching for the truth. 

“We’re working on it,” she pulled him up the stairs. “Rafa we don’t have much time, the guard change only takes a few minutes. 

“You’re working on it? His cell is just down the other hall…” 

Olivia shook her head, throwing a cloak around Rafael’s shoulders. “Its empty, we don’t know where he is. Stabler is still looking for him.” She pulled him through the kitchen doors, still empty for a few hours before the kitchen staff would rise to prepare for breakfast. Out through the back doors, the quickest route to the stables. Olivia’s plan. 

They both ducked inside the barn, eyes straining without the soft light of the moon overhead. “Lieutenant, is that you?” a voice called from the back over the sound of horses shifting and snorting, unused to be disturbed at such a late hour. 

“I got him, Rollins,” she led Rafael to the back of the stable, three horses tacked and ready. 

“We’re running out of time,” he knew Rollins well enough to recognize the urgency in her voice, and Rafael cringed. These people, his trusted colleagues, his friends, all willing to put their jobs, their lives on the line to help him escape a death sentence. But there was no time for sentimentality. 

“You have to go, Rafael,” Liv urged, giving him a leg up onto one of the horses. “If you don’t leave now you’re going to miss the window.” 

Even in the dim light, Olivia could see Rafael’s green eyes narrow. “Not without Dominick.” 

She scowled. “We have no idea where he is, he could be dead already, its not worth the risk.” 

But Rafael’s chin jutted out in defiance. “No.” He slid back off of the horse. “You don't understand, Olivia, I'd rather face certain execution by his side than live a life without him in it, knowing that I'm solely responsible for his death.” There was no mistaking his conviction, no hope of convincing him otherwise.


	4. Sunflare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so originally I said one shot and then I said 5 chapters but then I started writing this chapter and decided that there was more that needed to be said, so I've officially added a chapter. There will be two more after this installment, and I hope you're all sufficiently pleased with that.

  
[ ](https://ibb.co/bzFw2w)

Dominick fell to the stone floor with a loud groan, every muscle in his body was screaming, the pain in his side from the boot kick back in full force, and he wondered for a moment, face pressed against granite, if the noose scheduled for the following day would be unnecessary. “Take him out of here,” he heard the King call from his bed, and Dominick was hit with a wave of nausea as he was pulled from the ground by a guard. “I’m through with him.”

Dominick cast a glance over his shoulder as the guards led him away, each step unsteady. When he had been roused out of his cell hours ago, he had assumed that he had lost track of time, was sure that he was to be led to the gallows, his last chance to see Rafael, the only thing he had been willing to look forward to, one instant of bliss before the great unknown. 

Dominick wanted to believe in God, wanted to believe in an afterlife, that there would be some way to justify everything that he had endured. But he didn’t. No story, no legend, no tall tale could bridge that dissonance in his head. He expected nothingness, a senseless void. 

“I’ll take him from here,” Dominick looked up at the sound, another guard, hand wrapping around his upper arm. The guards at his sides nodded, and he recognized the insignia on the man’s uniform, a sergeant. His stomach dropped, a chill seeping down his spine like ice cold water. “You’re dismissed.” 

Dominick forced one foot in front of the other, focusing on the radiating cracks in the floor, polish worn. The steps behind him, the two guards who had been leading him to the dungeon, faded away, and his arm was jerked sharply. He winced, and they made a quick turn away from the path that lead to the prison cells buried beneath the palace. 

“Sorry,” the voice was gruff, but Dominick’s sapphire eyes flashed up craning to look at the guard next to him. A sorry wasn’t anything close to what he expected. Even before the sentence Dominick had been nothing more than a concubine, a bed warmer, and an aged one at that, no longer even able to hold the attention of the king. Now he was nothing more than a prisoner, surely undeserving of any compassion. 

Dominick frowned, he had no idea where they were going, no idea why they had turned away from the prison cells, but he was pulled into the kitchens, still dark, empty… almost. 

“Identify yourself,” the sergeant’s voice startled the concubine, deep, commanding even at low volume in the darkness. 

“Dodds?” A woman’s voice, another guard he could make out in the low light. 

“Sunflower,” the voice cracked, but Dominick could have recognized it anywhere, and he stiffened his back, standing a little straighter, trying to hide the pain from his face. 

“Rafael?” He was met with no answer, just a desperate embrace holding him upright. 

“I told you we’d get you out alive.” 

“I don’t mean to cut this reunion short,” Olivia cut in, “but you’re running out of time if you want that to be true.” Rafael nodded, circling his arm around his waist. Dominick bit back a wince. His ribs throbbed, but he leaned into Rafael’s touch, the warm heat radiating from his side, steady and reassuring.

They moved quickly, or as quickly as Dominick could move, out the back door and down to the stables, and Rafael hoisted himself up into a saddle with practiced ease, Rollins already saddled beside him. Dominick hesitated, searching out Rafael’s eyes for guidance. “I-I never,” he shook his head, gesturing at the dappled beast in front of him. 

Rafael reached out and took hold of the horse’s bridle to steady her, “it’s alright, you just have to hold on, Sonny.” 

Dominick couldn’t quite bite back a groan of pain as he lifted himself into the saddle, hands trembling as his fingers caressed the soft leather of the reins, heels twisting uncomfortably in metal stirrups. They gave him no time to adjust, no time to find his footing before they were rushed out of the stable, the heavy thunder of hoofbeats echoing in the night. 

Dominick had never touched the outer walls of the palace, had never gotten past the gardens, never stood in their shadow, because even as a child he had known that the temptation would be too great, to try to escape. But they hurtled forward faster than Dominick had remembered moving, closer to those menacing walls that he’d last passed when he was twelve years old. 

He could see the gates come into view, thick solid iron, impossibly high, swinging open as they approached. “Hurry,” he heard their guide urge beside him, another guard, Rollins, he’d met her only a few times before inside the palace. Dominick leaned forward, hands twisting in the reins as he ignored the searing pain inside him with each hoof strike. 

In the soft radiance of moonlight, Dominick could see the path ahead of them, just beyond the gates. His first view of the world outside the palace in sixteen years. He tore his eyes away from the path just out of reach to glance over at Rafael. Still dirty, sweating, nothing but intensity on his face. Rafael was a vision. 

“Rollins, behind us,” he heard Rafael call as he checked over his shoulder, and Dominick turned too, a line of horses, guards. His heart dropped to his stomach. They’d made it farther than he had imagined they would. 

But Rollins pulled away from their line, “keep going, I’ll stop them, don’t look back,” she ordered, left no room for dissent. Only a few more moments, a couple hundred yards between Dominick, and Rafael and the vast unknown outside of those palace walls. Rafael urged the horse forward, and Dominick was grateful that the thousand-pound creature beneath him followed suit without request.  
A hundred yards. He could hear the sound of metal, a sword drawn, just behind him. Don’t look back, he reminded himself, and with that the steel gates swung shut, just on their heels. 

Rafael let out a heavy sigh beside him, and Dominick let go of the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. The horses slowed. They had a long road ahead, had to make their way out of the capital, make their way through the entirety of the kingdom, but the immediate danger was still locked behind those gates, the ones that had kept Dominick, now their salvation. 

The path they took through the streets of the capital were foreign to Dominick, but Rafael knew them well, knew where the guards tended to take their rest, which alleys had late night food stalls open, and the moon was still hanging at the highest point in the sky when they reached the bridge, the wide wooden planks over a raging current, the only entrance into and out of the capital. Dominick’s eyes widened as they took slow, creaking steps over the bridge, and Dominick, only sun of a farmer, realized that this was the farthest from home he’d ever been. Home, the farm, flowers around the house, large stretches of vegetables, picking beans and peas with his sisters. He had always hoped to return there one day. He cast a glance over his shoulder as they stepped off the bridge. 

Now he could never return home, would never again see his sisters, never see his mother, his father. He had never expected to see them again, not when he had figured out exactly what being chosen by the king entailed, but he had hoped still. His heart was pounding in his chest, straining against his rib cage. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get his lungs to inflate, couldn’t stop the tears welling in his eyes, and he pulled sharply on the reins, stopping in his tracks. 

“Stop,” his voice cracked, and he slid off the horse’s back, collapsing in a pile of tangled limbs and heaving sobs. 

Rafael was off his horse in an instant, eyes searching desperately trying to figure out what was going on. “Sunflower,” he sank to his knees in front of the blond man. “What, what’s wrong?” His eyes softened, head tilting to the side ever so slightly as he reached for Dominick’s hands. “We’re not out of the woods yet, my love, but we’re past the worst of it, you’re safe.” 

Dominick bowed his head, dirty blond curls falling into his eyes. “I should go back,” his voice was nothing more than a quivering whisper. “I should go back, I should go back,” he repeated again, and again. 

Rafael swallowed the lump in his throat, “Sunflower, stop it,” he reached up, brushing his thumb across Dominick’s cheek, lifting his chin gently. “If you go back, he’ll kill you. Why? Why would you want to?” Their eyes met, green and watery blue. 

“I’m nothing,” he choked out, “I’m his, I don’t know how to be anything else.” 

“Stop that,” Rafael’s voice was stern, gruff, but had no bite. “You’re so much more than how he defined you. I know this will be an adjustment, I know you haven’t been outside of the palace since you were a child, but we can’t go back. I can’t lose you. Please,” the gentle reassurance faded into pleading. 

Dominick took in one shaky, shallow breath and let his hand cover Rafael’s on his cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” His pulse was still pounding in his ears, but he blinked away the tears. “I-” he hesitated, just for a moment, studying viridian green eyes. “I love you, Rafael.” 

“I love you too, Sunflower,” Rafael pulled him to his feet, his hand lingering on Dominick’s slick skin, a gentle caress, never long enough. 

They returned to the saddles, and the journey forward. Rafael had traveled much of the kingdom, accompanied troops on all sorts of excursions, the king on some of his processions. He knew the paths through the territories. It would take two weeks through some of the most difficult terrain in the kingdom, through the Eastern Territories, but Olivia, and his other allies in the palace knew what they faced, had prepared accordingly, with dried food, and gallons of water, blankets and sleeping rolls. 

For two weeks, they were in perpetual motion, like falling forward with no ground to catch them, an easy cycle of riding, and sleeping and keeping watch. Rafael helped tend to the bruises Dominick had only admitted to once they were safely out of the shadow of the palace walls, washed the blood from his cuts with the sharp cool sting of creek water. And Dominick explained with a quivering voice exactly why he had been absent from his cell when the guards had tried to break them out. 

They were only a day’s ride from the border, and as they settled into the easy rhythm of galloping, Dominick turned his head to watch Rafael, seated easily in the saddle, that sort of collected calmness. He allowed himself a smile, the warm radiance of hope settling into his chest. Rafael met his gaze and his heart swelled, there was nothing quite as celestial as Dominick’s smile. And then he heard it, a voice calling through the trees. “Advisor Barba!” The unquestionable sound of troops.


	5. Sunbeam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go! Please let me know what you think! Your feedback is invaluable!

[](https://ibb.co/kAgsub)

They had been moving through the heavy thicket of forest for two days straight, the last obstacle between Rafael, Dominick and the safe haven of the border. The sun had disappeared from view, hidden by the dense, cool canopy of trees overhead, and Dominick’s eyes strained in the darkness. They urged the horses on with careful steps, nearly two weeks of hard running had taken its toll on the dappled creatures, and the gnarled, twisted roots underfoot only slowed them more. Dominick winced as his horse stumbled. The journey had done nothing for his aching muscles and the cracked ribs at his side.

“Easy,” he reassured, patting the slick, muscular neck in front of him as she regained her footing. Dominick had never particularly cared for horses before. His family could have never afforded one before he was taken in to the palace, and learning to ride after seemed pointless in the shadow of the palace walls, an ever present perimeter. But after spending so much time with her as a constant companion, Dominick had come to develop a certain affection. She was as much his salvation as the guards that had broken them out, as Rafael, who had orchestrated the whole thing. 

Rafael had taken the lead in front of him, seemed to know his way even in the dark of the forest, and Dominick watched him, carefully. They were both weary, and Dominick could see the way Rafael’s shoulders sagged, seated heavily in the saddle, a far cry from the proud, staunch posture he had always seemed to have before. A pang of guilt settled in his stomach. The events that had unfolded over the past few weeks, a death sentence, a daring escape, the grueling trek across the entirety of the kingdom, it was his fault. Rafael had lost everything, his status, his home, his friends, everything for a lowly concubine. 

“Advisor Barba!” Dominick had been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t heard the heavy hoof strikes coming up ahead of them, the clamor surely more than one horse, but Dominick couldn’t quite make out what they were up against. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Whomever they were, they were surely members of the King’s troops, and they had already recognized Rafael. Only a few hours from the border, they’d made it this far, and Dominick had the sinking realization that it was as far as they would go. 

Rafael straightened in his saddle, squared his shoulders as the group of troops, a line of five soldiers came into view. “General Dodds,” he nodded, pulling back on the reins to come to a halt in front of them. Dominick urged his horse a few steps forward, settling on Rafael’s right side. 

“What brings you out this way, Advisor?” The general shifted in the saddle, his own horse coming to a stop in front of them, his troops flanking either side of him. “You haven’t been in these parts since we quelled the uprisings a year ago.”

Rafael cast a glance over his shoulder, eyes meeting Dominick’s for the briefest instant. A glimmer of hope. Rafael had been certain that news would have reached the Eastern Territories faster than they had- the path they had taken was not the most direct route, not the route couriers took to deliver information to the outlying parts of the kingdom. The path they had taken was less traveled, more difficult terrain, chosen in hopes of avoiding exactly these sorts of confrontations. But the General gave no indication of malice, no indication of knowledge that Rafael was no longer an Advisor but an outlaw. 

“Business to attend to, General Dodds, the king sent me to discuss a strategy with the neighboring kingdom in dealing with the pillaging of the South East marshes.” Rafael’s voice was steady, calm and confident, and Dominick kept his gaze lowered, thumbs brushing over the soft worn leather of the reins in his hands. 

“Ah! Understood, Advisor. Its about time we address that. My men have reported many issues at the South Eastern border,” General Dodds smiled widely, and Rafael bit back a sigh of relief. “Safe travels, Advisor Barba,” he added before nudging his dark roan horse forward, past Rafael and Sonny, and the troops fell in line behind him. 

Rafael said nothing as they returned to the trek forward, and the drum beat of horse hoofs faded into silence behind them before he let his shoulders drop. He twisted in his seat to look at Dominick. “I can hardly believe that happened without incident…” he spoke softly before returning his gaze to the dark path ahead. 

“News must not have made it out this far?” Dominick leaned forward slightly in the saddle, though the events certainly spoken for themselves. Either the news hadn’t made it out that far, or the king’s troops were more loyal to the advisor than he imagined. 

The woods dissolved into a field of wildflowers, soft pinks and blues like a blanket of little paint drops after a few hours and Rafael let his horse come to a stop, Dominick next to him with a cloud of confusion settling on his face. But Rafael just slid out of the saddle, his knees straining against the muscle memory of stirrups. “Why are we stopping?” Dominick frowned, turning his gaze to Rafael. He hadn’t expected the smile, impossibly wide on Rafael’s face as he walked over, urging Dominick off his own mount. 

“Sunflower. We made it.” Dominick had never heard such bliss in Rafael’s voice, and the realization of what his words actually meant spread through him slowly, the feather light feeling of relief, and he couldn’t help himself, just lunged forward, his arms circling around Rafael’s waist with a force that sent them both tumbling to the ground. Rafael would have complained, about the deep ache that had settled into his back more than a week ago, about his stiff knees, the soft cold earthen dampness seeping into his clothing, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about any of those things. Instead, he just twisted rolling Dominick onto his back, hovering over him, soft lips ghosting across the skin of his pale neck, rose colored lips. 

“We really made it?” Dominick couldn’t help but ask, his mouth articulating each syllable against Rafael’s skin. 

“Really.” 

“Really, Rafi, two steps inside the border of your homeland and you completely let your guard down?” The female voice, sharp but teasing cut through Dominick’s euphoria, and he scrambled to sit upright. 

Rafael seemed to feel no such urgency, rather, just dropped a sweet, lingering kiss to Dominick’s temple before rising to his feet. “Haven’t had a moment’s rest in two weeks, Rita, I think I’m allowed a certain amount of indulgence,” he smiled to the woman as she dismounted her horse, a pure white beast dwarfing her small frame, and she pulled him into a hug. 

“I’m glad you made it,” she added with a soft chuckle. “To think, the nerve, willing to start a war over a concubine.” Dominick winced visibly, shoulders hunched in an attempt to seem smaller than he was. “I didn’t mean it like that,” Rita added quickly, but Dominick had the sinking feeling that she had. 

“I’m sorry, Sunflower,” Rafael whispered in his ear when he returned to Dominick’s side. “This is Rita, an old friend. Rita,” his tone sharpened, and the edge wasn’t lost on the woman, “this is Dominick.” 

“I just meant that old bag sentencing a foreign duke to death, he had to know that he’d be inciting a war with us, your grandmother would never stand for it, even as old as she’s getting.” Rita laughed lightly, lifting herself back into the saddle. Dominick’s eyes widened, blue sapphire, but Rafael didn’t seem to notice, only returned to his own saddle. 

It was only a short ride into a small town, a border town made of more soldiers than citizens, and they settled into a small inn. “We’ll leave for the capital in the morning,” Rita had explained, “we’ll take fresh horses, should only take the better part of the day, though you know that of course,” she had teased with Rafael before leaving them be in the room. 

Rafael had remained silent after Rita had drifted out of the room, busied himself with unpacking their bags, drawing a steaming bath, and Dominick had just sat on the edge of the bed, unsure what exactly to do with himself, the lack of urgency sucking the wind out of his sails. 

“Join me?” Rafael had asked sweetly, gesturing to the oversized metal tub, leaning in to press a kiss at the base of Dominick’s neck despite the sweat and grime still covering them both. Dominick only nodded, shedding layers with a poised and careful grace, and Rafael swallowed hard, trying not to imagine why he’d cultivated that particular skill. Instead he just eased himself into the scalding heat of the water, muscles groaning. Dominick settled between his legs, back flush against Rafael’s broad chest, arms circling around him almost protectively. And he realized, for a moment, that he couldn’t remember a time before then that he had actually felt safe. 

“Your friend,” Dominick started softly, letting his head fall back against Rafael’s shoulder. “She called you a Duke.” The question left unspoken still lingered all too clearly, and Rafael’s breath was warm and humid against Dominick’s ear. 

“My Grandmother is the reigning queen.” Rafael nodded slowly, “my mother is her only child, next in line for the throne.” 

Dominick sat up slowly, craning his neck to look at Rafael, brows knitted in deep confusion. “If you’re in the line of royalty, why were you the advisor to another king?” He never pretended to know much about how politics worked. His family had never been particularly interested in the way their kingdom functioned, there was no need to know, not when there was nothing they could do about it. 

“I left when I was eighteen, never got along with my father,” he explained quietly. “Our kingdoms have been allies for centuries, and I’d known the king since I was a boy. He trusted my political and military knowledge, and took me in.” 

Dominick settled back against his chest, brain reeling as he struggled to process the information. Not advisor, but duke, second in line for a throne. He let himself sink lower under the water, feeling the weight of his status more than ever. 

“When we reach the capital,” Rafael added, his voice barely above the whisper. “I can provide you with anything you need. A job, food, a home, whatever you want…” Dominick furrowed his brow. “You don’t have to stay in the castle, don’t have to stay with me.” 

Dominick opened his mouth to reply, to silence the implications, but he could feel the heavy rock of realization settle in his stomach. A future king. Rafael was a future king. He had saved Dominick’s life out of obligation, out of compassion, but they still couldn’t be together. He wouldn’t want a former concubine by his side, like some sort of equal… so he shut his mouth, letting the silence hang there between them.


	6. Sunshine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys we made it to the end! And its still exam week! Hope this ending doesn't disappoint. I rewrote it in my head like ten times.

Dominick had been sure that he would fall asleep as soon as his head hit the soft down pillows. They’d been sleeping on the ground for two weeks straight, he’d been sleeping on the stone floor of a cell for a week before that. After the soothing heat of the bath with Rafael, they were finally fresh and clean, and Dominick wanted nothing more than to settle into the bed and let his dreams take him. 

But Rafael’s words hung heavy in his mind, like a dark purple bruise he couldn’t help but prod, even though it hurt and Dominick found himself wide awake in the darkness. Rafael had coaxed him into the bed after the water had cooled and they had toweled off. He had peppered soft kisses across pale shoulders, and the soft skin on Dominick’s neck. “Please lay with me,” he had asked gently, even as rough stubble brushed across his ear. 

Dominick wouldn’t have said no, even if he wanted to, just followed Rafael’s lead, tangled their legs together the way they had the last time they had shared a bed. It felt like a lifetime ago, a memory of a memory still hazy at the edges. Rafael had fallen asleep a few moments later. Dominick wasn’t surprised, he could still see the deep lines of exhaustion on the man’s face, relaxing slightly as he drifted off. But Dominick couldn’t help but wonder if it would be the last time they would sleep like that, his head resting in the crook of Rafael’s shoulder, his heavy hand on Dominick’s side, holding him in place. 

Dominick let his fingertips wander gently over Rafael’s skin, the soft sparse curls across his chest. If it was going to be the last time, the last time he was able to see Rafael so at peace, breathe in that familiar scent, feel the radiating heat from his skin, Dominick wanted to appreciate it, commit each moment to memory, something to hold onto. It was hours later when he finally drifted off to sleep. 

They rose early in the morning, the first hint of the suns rays peeking over the horizon in deep red and pink hues. To Dominick, it just seemed like an omen, and he sat uncomfortably in the saddle of a horse he was unfamiliar with. He had wanted to ask, when they left, why they were leaving the horses behind, the girls that had carried him and Rafael to the safe haven of a foreign land. But Rafael, refreshed from a full night’s sleep, had busied himself with catching up with Rita. Six years since they had seen each other last, Dominick had caught bits and pieces of the conversation, but he hung back. He didn’t want to intrude, or interrupt, and despite Rafael’s sharp tongue the day before, Dominick was acutely aware of what she thought of him. 

A concubine. Even free from the confines of those palace walls, he still wasn’t free of the king. Before he’d been the son of a peasant. Not a point of pride, but neither a point of shame. Now he was permanently marred. Dominick shuddered in the saddle, could feel the ghost of a memory, hands on his skin. The king had changed him. 

“What are you going to do now that you’re back?” Dominick looked up as he heard the question, directed at Rafael of course, but no less interested in the response. 

Rafael laughed lightly, and Dominick couldn’t help but note how soft, how carefree the man seemed. “I suppose I’ll have to figure that out,” he shrugged indecisively, and cast a look over his shoulder to Dominick. “Maybe I’ll just teach. You know my mother would love that.” Rita just snorted rather ungracefully, rolling her eyes at him. 

Dominick didn’t know what he had been expecting, but the sprawling white city that grew out of the horizon was beyond any vision he’d had. It was magnificent, almost sparkling as the sun overhead struck the white stone walls outside of the city. More walls. But the gate swung open unprompted to allow them in. 

The capital was a far cry from the city he had grown up in with dirty streets, people pushing past each other in a hurry, the dull browns and greys as far as the eye could see. But this, it was pristine, and the people on the streets smiled beaming smiles at them, parted in the streets to allow the horses through, and he could hear the choruses from the crowd, the cheers of “our prince has returned” “the duke is back.” Beloved. A strange thought. Rafael had been feared in the palace, notorious. Here he was welcomed like salvation. 

They arrived at another set of gates too soon for Dominick’s liking, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, beating time against his rib cage as the gates swung shut behind him. Two sets of gates, two sets of walls. So different, but so cripplingly familiar, and he struggled to take in an unsteady breath. 

“Sunflower,” the voice, tender and assuring, pulled Dominick from his thoughts, and he looked over at Rafael, finding refuge in emerald eyes. Rafael held out his hand, and Dominick glanced over at Rita for a moment, before taking it cautiously. “I’m so glad you’re here.” The slender man just nodded slowly before letting his hand fall back to the reins. 

They dismounted as they reached the castle steps, and Dominick couldn’t help but look up in awe. The palace he had spent sixteen years in had been undeniably magnificent, towering and ornate, but it paled in comparison with the grandeur in front of him, opulent marble walls reaching into the heavens. 

Rita parted ways with them with promises to return after she was through with work, and a servant led the horses away as soon as they turned over the reins. Dominick flicked his gaze over to Rafael, searching for guidance. The duke side stepped closer to him, let a soft hand fall on his lower back, guiding him up the stairs. 

The massive wooden doors into the castle opened up into a cavernous foyer, and in any other instance, Dominick wouldn’t have known where to look first, huge crystal chandeliers cast a soft flickering glow against the walls, grand portrait canvases hanging in gold frames. As it was, a woman, standing at the top of the staircase caught his eye immediately, older, but beautiful, a familiar smile on her face. 

“My son,” she smiled as she descended the staircase with such grace it almost looked like she was floating. Dominick would have known even with out the comment, Rafael’s mother. She pulled Rafael into a hug when she reached them, and then pulled away brows narrowed. “Six years, Rafael. Six years.” 

Rafael opened his mouth to respond to her indignant snip but she waved him off. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. You were out this way only last year, yes I heard about that. Couldn’t take an extra day to see the woman who gave birth to you.” She rolled her eyes, and Dominick couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity of the expression. 

“I’m sorry, Mami, no excuses,” he replied, but Dominick could hear the smile in his voice, even without looking at him. 

She nodded curtly before turning her gaze to Dominick, and he could feel himself shrinking under her stare. “You must be Dominick,” her face broke into a soft smile before pulling him into a hug as well. He froze, heart dropping uncomfortably. “Thank you for getting my son home to me. Lord knows he wasn’t going to come home unprompted. Away from that awful tyrant.” She wrinkled her nose as she pulled away. Dominick’s stomach churned. She didn’t know, that much was clear. Didn’t know that her son had thrown everything he had worked for away, for a concubine, didn’t know that the man standing there had spent the last sixteen years as nothing more than a toy for the king. He glanced at Rafael, wondering when he’d clarify.

“Rafi, show this young man to your chambers, clean up and get some rest. Your Grandmother has called for a feast; I’ve been told it will be ready in a few hours.” Rafael smiled, leaning in to drop a chaste kiss on his mother’s cheek. 

“Yes Mami, thank you.” 

Dominick followed Rafael with slow steps through the empty halls, and he wondered for a moment why it felt so much like a funeral procession with an ominous finality. They turned a sharp corner, up a few flights of stairs, and Rafael pushed a door open into empty chambers. “My old room is down the hall, you can stay here…” he trailed off, “if you don’t want…”

There it was, and Dominick could have sworn he heard the sound of glass shattering, little shards skittering across the stone floors. It hit him like a wall, sucking the air out of his lungs and he could feel the hot burn of tears on his cheeks. 

Rafael’s eyes widened, taken aback by the sudden change, and he leaned forward, fingers curling around Dominick’s strong forearm. “What’s wrong, Sunflower? What is it?” 

Dominick struggled to find the words, opened his mouth and closed it again before he spoke in a stuttered whisper, voice threatening to crack, “you don’t want me anymore.” The comment felt like a bolt straight to Rafael’s chest. “I know I’ve n-nothing to offer, already used, but I…” He tilted his head up to look at Rafael, eyes deep watery blue and pleading. 

Rafael tightened his hand around Dominick’s wrist, and pulled him into the chamber. He perched himself on the edge of the bed, guiding Dominick down next to him, and he let out a soft sigh. “I’m so sorry, Sunflower, that I made you feel like that, it wasn’t my intention,” he let his thumb drag lazy circles over Dominick’s skin. “Every fiber of my being wants you. Make no mistake about that. But I want you to be able to have choices.” His voice breaking painfully. “I don’t want you to feel like you’ve traded one owner for another. I insisted they break you out because I love you, and you deserve a life, one that you can actually enjoy, not to bring you back here to be my slave instead of his.”

Dominick paused, relief settling warm in his stomach, because he had never considered that, it had never even crossed his mind that being with Rafael would be anything like the king. “You’re in line to be take over the throne, Rafael. You certainly won’t want a former concubine at your side…” he trailed off. “Certainly your mother would never allow it once she finds out…” 

Rafael paused, a dark cloud confusion crossing his eyes. “Finds out? She already knows everything, Sunflower. And frankly I don’t think that matters, I’m not ashamed of you, I’m enraged for you, that someone could ever treat you that way.”

Dominick leaned in, placed a searing kiss to Rafael’s lips, desperate and needy, and when they finally broke he was panting, “you’re an idiot.” But a smile played across his lips. The doubt that had pained him for the last day dissolving into felicity. “Rafael, I haven’t had a future since I was a child. I made my peace with that years ago, never let myself want anything because it wasn’t a possibility. When I was sitting in that cell, I wasn’t scared for me, because my life meant nothing then.” His breath caught. “The only reason I want a future now is to be with you.”

* * *

Dominick drew in a slow, deep breath, the sweet perfume of flowers lingering in the air. With his eyes closed, it was hard to believe that he was really there, that it had really been a year since he had trekked across an entire kingdom with Rafael, had finally escaped the prison, the literal cell, and those palace walls. He opened his eyes slowly, looking up to the sky, so bright blue, soft white tufts of cloud drifting lazily across his vision.

His head was resting on Rafael’s chest, rising and falling gently with each deep breath. After all that time, he still savored moments like this, sunflowers hanging over their heads like a halo in his vision. After they had settled from their journey, Rafael had asked Dominick what he wanted, where he wanted to live, what he wanted to do. 

“Anything,” he had told Dominick, “I’ll find a way to give you anything you want.” But Dominick didn’t want much. A sweet little cottage just outside of the immediate buzz of the city, that they lived in together, fell asleep tangled in each other’s arms every night without fear of what the morning might hold. 

“I want to work,” Dominick had insisted. “I spent sixteen years being kept. I don’t mind pulling my weight.” And so he planted flowers, thousands of them to sell in the market, sell to the castle, people traveling through. He loved it, working in the gardens that belonged to him, walking through the streets delivering beautiful bouquets of lilies and roses, daffodils and carnations. 

He stretched out on the blanket, in the shade of the sunflowers, and Rafael let his hand drift lazily over Dominick’s shoulder, and bicep, yawning audibly. “Do you want to go back inside?” Rafael asked, his eyes still closed, face turned up into the balmy rays of the sun. He had just gotten back that morning from a short trip away, still serving as an advisor, but to the queen now, his Grandmother. Dominick had missed him terribly. 

“Not yet,” Dominick replied sweetly, lifting his head from Rafael’s chest to press soft kisses to his cheek, and jaw, and neck. “Just want to lay with you a little while longer.” Rafael hummed his approval, tilting his head up to capture Dominick’s lips in a soft kiss. 

Dominick settled back down, tucking his head into the crook of Rafael’s shoulder, arm slung across him lazily, fingertips trailing up and down his side. Rafael shivered under the touch, even in the warm summer heat. 

“I think this is it,” Dominick’s dimples pulled at his cheeks as he looked up at the halo of sunflowers, swaying gently in the light breeze. 

“This is what?” Rafael turned his head, finally opening grass green eyes with curiosity. 

“Our happily ever after.”


End file.
